Exception (Cambria University Series Book 1)

by Sadie T. Williams

  I’ve never even seen Rhodes’ family, now that I think about it.

  As I shovel another spoonful of gumbo into my mouth, the room erupts with loud applause. No, dear God, please no.

  But it isn’t John Kelly, it’s Rhett “The Threat” McCarthy and his sons, minus Brooks. I am guessing Rhea is off the wagon again and likely not going to make an appearance. She looked stunning on ESPN during the Heisman ceremony though. I’m sure Brooks was pleased she stayed sober that night.

  Brett and Bo look like Brooks. Tall, chiseled and athletic. I’m trying to tell them apart – I know one is going to be a doctor and the other is on Wall Street. They’re definitely not as big as Brooks, but they’re both six feet tall or so. Rhett is handsome as well. Brooks looks the most like him. Steely blue eyes and dirty blond hair. He’s taller than his boys, but shorter than Brooks. They all move with a swagger that draws the attention of both men and women. Brooks definitely inherited that swag and magnetism from Rhett.

  Blaire and I watch the McCarthy boys work the room. Rhett signs autographs. Girls swoon over Brett and Bo, just like they do over Brooks. Luckily, I’ve never met Rhett, so he has no idea who I am. I’m glad I can stay hidden, because I’m not comfortable meeting Brooks’ family without him.

  “Are these seats taken?” he asks Blaire and me. We shake our heads. This has to be a coincidence.

  “Um, no sir, they’re all yours,” I motion to the table next to ours and smile.

  The boys slide the table over so it’s now connected to ours, and they all pull up a seat. Not a coincidence. How did he know we were here? That is a bit creepy.

  “Kiernan, these are my boys, Brett and Bo.” Rhett motions to the boys sitting next to Blaire, who has stopped eating, and all the color has drained from her face. I still don’t know which one is which. And he knows my name.

  “Hello, nice to meet you.” I offer my hand and they each shake it. I turn to Rhett, “Nice to meet you too, sir,” and I extend my hand.

  He shakes it, firmly.

  “This is my friend, Blaire.” She’s still frozen, but the boys and Rhett give her a nod. She offers a faint a smile. Is she going to fucking pass out?

  “So, my son tells me you two are dating?”

  Okay, straight to the point. I had no idea Brooks talked to his dad about us. I have a pit in my stomach, like I’m a toddler who was just busted eating cookies from the cookie jar before dinner.

  Saved by the waitress. “What can I get you, fellas?”

  “We will all have what she’s having,” Rhett replies and motions toward my bowl.

  “Drinks?” she asks.

  “Three waters. No lemon. Thank you.” Still straight to the point. The waitress leaves and Rhett’s focus is back on me. Why am I sweating? I’ve been around NFL players my whole life, but this is different. Rhett is intentionally intimidating. Plus, this is my boyfriend’s father. My first boyfriend ever. I’ve never had a “meet the parents” moment. I wipe my palms on my pants, hoping he doesn’t notice my nerves.

  “So, I think I asked you a question,” he says sternly. All eyes in the restaurant are on us. I’m sure they are wondering who Blaire and I are. So much for flying under the radar.

  “Um, yes, sir,” I squeak, “we are.”

  “And from what I understand, you’re an athlete?” he poses it as a question, but it’s really a statement.

  “Yes, sir,” I reply again. “I play softball.” My dad always taught me to use sir and ma’am when addressing his colleagues. Rhett, although not a teammate, is technically still an NFL colleague of my dad’s.

  “So, as an athlete I assume you understand the gravity of this game? What’s at stake here?” Again, not a question.

  “Yes, sir, I do.”

  “So distractions at this point are not ideal.” I see where we’re going with this now. I’m a distraction. I’m breaking his rules, not just Brooks’ rules. Did Brooks tell him any intimate details? I feel nauseous.

  The waitress returns with the waters.

  I can feel my face getting hotter. I want to protest that he’s having the best season of his career, but I don’t want him to think I’m taking credit for his son’s success. Because I’m not the reason for it, or taking credit for it. He’s a stud, plain and simple. This season is just all him in his glory.

  I look around for some assistance. His brothers just sit there like they’ve heard this bullshit several times. Zero help. Blaire can’t find her voice either. Okay, this is me vs. Rhett.

  “I completely understand, sir. I would never want to be a distraction. This season has been the best of his career and I would never want anything to jeopardize that.”

  “That’s good to hear. I know your dad and I know he agrees with me too.” He casually tosses out that tidbit of info. Holy fuck, he brought this up to my dad? I have every sense to text my dad right then and there, but that won’t solve anything. He would never take my side over Rhett’s. Daughter vs. superstar, the superstar will win every time. Every. Single. Time.

  “I’m sure he does, sir.”

  The waitress returns with their bowls of gumbo. The boys dig in as if this conversation isn’t even happening. Blaire is staring at the wall, admiring the decorations, I’m sure. Still zero help.

  “So, if you love my son, which he seems to think you do, I assume that you will end this nonsense soon.”

  Nonsense? He just referred to my relationship with his son as nonsense. My switch flips from nervous to angry. The athlete in me wants to fight. Shout, scream, and slap him even. The girl who was raised by John Kelly to never cause a negative scene in public calms me down.

  “Nonsense? I’m not sure if I’m following you, sir.” I feign ignorance.

  “Your relationship. It needs to end. Now.” He emphasizes the word and it sends chills down my spine. “We have rules, Kiernan. Rules to keep him safe and on the right path. Rules that if broken, can lead to his demise.”

  Demise? This isn’t some cheesy movie where the heroine must sacrifice herself for the man she loves.

  “As an athlete, you follow the rules of the game. Brooks follows my rules of life. He’s the Heisman winner. I know you know football, so I don’t need to explain that this is a big deal. He’s going to lead his team to a national championship. I have no doubt. After that, he’ll be a top-five draft pick. He will likely get drafted by Minnesota, because Thomas is getting old and their backup is garbage. They need a new franchise quarterback. He’ll move away from Massachusetts and return home. We have plans for him there. He can’t do those things if you keep forcing him to break his rules. Forcing him into a situation he doesn’t know how to remove himself from.”

  “Sir, I’m not—“ He raises his hand to silence me and continues.

  “The life of an NFL quarterback is chaotic. Was your dad home much? I doubt it. I know I wasn’t. His first year alone will be press junkets, photoshoots, interviews, meetings, endorsement deals and just a lot of things that require all of his focus. That’s all before he’s even played a snap. Plus, being on the road as a young, handsome man making millions? There are girls everywhere. Everywhere. Do you foresee yourself waiting at home for him? Never knowing if he’s coming home, or when he isn't, wondering who he’s with that night? Driving yourself crazy every time he doesn’t return a call or a text? Is that what you want? To be like your mom?”

  I feel like an atomic bomb just went off and obliterated the entire city of New Orleans. Those last words just cut right through my entire soul. How does he know? Did Brooks tell him what I confided in him? Did John tell him? Motherfucker. I’m seeing red. Not just with Rhett. With Blaire, Brett and Bo for not speaking up. With Brooks and my dad for sharing my intimate secrets with this horrible person sitting in front of me. I saw what my dad did to my mom. Brooks told me what happened to his mom. We don’t have a great familial track record with marriage. I vowed to never be that girl. To be the crazy psycho overly emotional woman who would rearrange her life for a man who woul
d just break her in the end. I was never her until now. But I love Brooks. I really love Brooks. Rhett’s words are burning into my ears and my heart is torched. My head and heart are waging a battle inside my body. My brain eventually wins. I am not that stupid girl, and I never will be.

  Blaire’s mouth is gaping. She clearly can’t believe her ears either. Brett and Bo? Nothing. Not even a reaction. Just another Rhett speech that he’s fed those boys and their potential girlfriends their whole life, I assume.

  “Okay.” That’s all I can manage, even though the anger seething through my veins is almost palpable.

  He nods. “Well, all right. I expect this to be finished prior to the Peach Bowl. I also take this to mean I will not see you in Atlanta.” He tosses a few bills onto the table to cover the cost of their meals. He didn’t even touch his.

  Prick.

  “Yes, sir.”

  As if they know this is the end of his speech, the boys rise at the same time to leave. If I’m not mistaken, they both give me a look that says “we know, we’re sorry” and leave the restaurant on the tail of Rhett “The Threat” McCarthy.

  “Motherfucker!” Blaire’s voice startles me. Oh, her voice does work.

  “What the fuck?” I whisper. I rest my elbows on the table and put my head in my hands.

  “You’re not really going to do it, are you? You can’t. You will break his fucking heart, KK. You’ll break your own heart.”

  “Why didn’t you say that to Rhett?” I snap. My tone is meaner than I want it to be.

  “I-I’m sorry.”

  “It’s fine, B. This isn’t your fault. I’m not mad at you. I’m sorry I took my frustration out on you just now. I just can’t believe that fucking happened.”

  “But seriously, what a dick.”

  “Brooks has told me how his dad is. His dad is the reason he doesn’t date, or hadn’t dated. Rhett is right though. You’ve seen my mom. She’s fucking insane. I’ve never wanted that. Better to end it now before I get more attached.” I shrug. I think my whole soul is numb. You know how people go into shock during trauma to prevent more damage to their bodies? I think that’s what’s happening. I know what I have to do, and I think my body is shutting down to protect my broken heart. I feel almost nothing. Except the throbbing in my chest where my heart used to be.

  “You don’t mean that. Rhett is an asshole. You would do that? Just like that? That’s it? You can’t be serious,” she says as her voice wavers. She’s going to cry.

  “Yup. I was being selfish. I knew this would be the outcome. I knew it deep down. I’ve seen how this type of thing plays out.” I sound cold. I’ve learned to turn my emotions off. John made sure we were always on the up and up in public. Even if I didn’t feel good inside, the outside never showed it. Right now, inside, my heart is about to burst wide open. I’ve never loved someone the way I love him. I don’t want to do this.

  “I don’t want to be a distraction for Brooks. I want him to be drafted and move on with his career. He deserves that. I don’t want him holding back for me. His family clearly doesn’t approve, and I sure as shit don’t want to be my mom. Better to do it now than get more attached,” I say again and shake my head. “I fucking love him though, B. This is going to kill me.” Tears are now falling down my cheeks, but I’m trying my damnedest to hold it together.

  “You’re the most unselfish person I know,” she wails. “No one would break their own heart to save the future of the love of their life. It’s the most beautifully sad thing I’ve ever heard.” She’s crying now too – heave-crying with snot running down from her nose. She’s always been a bit dramatic, but I appreciate that she’s painfully aware of what this is costing me.

  Blaire stands and walks over to my side of the booth. She slides in and wraps her lanky arms around me and squeezes hard. I think she even rubs a little snot on my shirt. Maybe if she suffocates me right now I won’t have to actually do this.

  Chapter 18: Brooks

  Twenty-eight to twenty-one. That score will stick with me for the rest of my life. We’re going to the Peach Bowl to face LSU for the national championship. There were doubts when I committed to Cambria. Doubts that I chose the wrong school and ruined my career. Not anymore. I’m a Heisman winner and we’re going to the ‘ship.

  My whole team played lights out. Bateman had two receiving touchdowns courtesy of yours truly. Rhodes punched one in and I ran for one. Our defense held at the end. Blake stuffed their running back on a linebacker blitz on fourth and one to seal the deal. We beat Oklahoma. I’ve never felt higher in my life. I looked for Kiernan and Blaire after the game, but they were gone already.

  After the photos, trophy ceremony and mandatory press conference, I meet my dad and brothers in the parking lot. Rhea has already checked out, apparently. I’m not sure if she even made it to the game.

  “Nice game, son,” Rhett says. I feel like this a trap.

  “What?”

  “You played well. LSU is going to be a lot tougher though.” There’s a weird undertone to his message. He never compliments me without some harsh critique. Telling me what I already know about LSU seems… soft.

  “Yup, we know,” I reply. “We’re going to be preparing for them as soon as we get back to campus.”

  “Your whole team played tough, bro.” Brett pats me on the shoulder and offers a half-smile. He seems off too. I’m getting a weird feeling from them.

  “Yeah, if you all bring it like that against LSU, you’ll crush,” Bo adds but doesn’t make eye contact with me.

  “Crush? Doubtful. He’ll be the only thing getting crushed if his o-line doesn’t step up. LSU’s two defensive ends are future pro-bowlers,” Rhett rebuts. Okay, now we’re back to his normal postgame assholeness. “Besides, their running back is far better than Rhodes, and your D-line will need to work much harder than they did today.”

  I don’t want to listen to this shit. I want to talk to Kiernan and get her take on the game. I love that she can analyze my performance and has always scouted our next opponent. Talking football with her is my favorite thing to do – well, second favorite thing to do. Little Mac gives me a quick twitch in my sweats as a reminder.

  “It’s late. I’m tired and I gotta get on the bus to go back to the hotel. I’ll see you boys later. Thanks for coming.”

  “Good game, bro,” Brett says once more.

  My brothers aren’t usually men of few words. Normally, they would have been all over my shit. Fist pounds and chest bumps. They’d be shouting it to the moon that we won that game. I don’t know what’s going on. They must be pissed at Rhett. That isn’t unusual.

  I get on the bus and text Kiernan. I wonder if I could sneak her into our hotel. Better not. Don’t want to get suspended before the championship game. No message from her. Several from other family and friends, but nothing from my girlfriend. Not even a “Congrats, babe.” Just nothing.

  “Hey, babe, you up?” The bus ride back to the hotel only takes a few minutes. Once we’re unloaded and I’m in my room, I check my phone for the hundredth time. Still nothing.

  I grab some water and lay down. I start flipping channels mindlessly. She must be asleep already.

  “I’m so jacked I can’t sleep. I hope you had fun at the game. Goodnight. Love you.”

  I finally fell asleep around 2 a.m. My alarm buzzes at 7 a.m., just as Bateman pounds on my door.

  “BUS!”

  “Yeah, I’m ready,” I lie. I shower quickly, throw my shit in my suitcase, put on my travel gear and head out to the bus.

  I check my phone. Still nothing. I text Kiernan again. It’s almost 7:30 now, and it’s strange she hasn’t responded. She normally would have called me and we would have broken down the game together over the phone. That is what we did with all of my other away games.

  “Hey, heading to the airport. See you tonight? I need some help celebrating.”

  We check in and as the flight takes off, she still hasn’t responded. I’m starting to worry.
r />   “B, you hear from Blaire at all?” I lean over and ask Bateman.

  “Yeah, their flight leaves at noon. They’re grabbing brunch before they head to the airport.”

  “When do they get in?”

  “I think she said around 6:30, they have a layover in Atlanta.”

  “Are you going to pick Blaire up from the airport? I haven't gotten a chance to talk to Kiernan yet.”

  “Yeah, I, umm,” he pauses, “was going to get both of them so they didn’t have to pay for an Uber.”

  “Can I tag along?”

  “Of course,” he says as he puts his earbuds in. He is trying to ignore me.

  What the fuck is going on? Normally he would have told me that he was picking up my girlfriend from the airport and asked me if I wanted to go. His answers are short and he’s avoiding conversation. Between his strange behavior, my brothers acting weird, and Kiernan not responding to my texts, I feel a wrench in my gut. The same dreadful feeling that crept over me on Halloween at the Pi Kappa house.

  We get back home to a huge fanfare of students and faculty cheering as our bus pulls into the parking lot. After a long period of shaking hands, high fives, hugs, and sexual propositions from some lovely young ladies, we make it back to Blake’s truck. Still no word from Kiernan.

  “Is everything okay?” I finally ask via text. I don’t really want her to answer that question. Is she mad I didn’t see her while she was in New Orleans? She of all people understands the grind. She’s never jealous or mad when I have prior commitments with the team. She’s the daughter of a football player, an athlete herself, and she gets it. Or at least she used to.

  “What’s up, man?” Blake asks as I stare out the window, running through all the possible scenarios that are in my head as to why Kiernan is avoiding me.